"Dorian…" Basil breathed but the words were cut off by another gentle kiss as the beautiful creature leant into him.
"Basil," a delicate smile played upon the young man's lips, yet the artist was certain he had spied a menacing glint in those enticing eyes, "please…don't protest. I'm aware I've being avoiding your company of late and I apologise for that. I wanted to demonstrate the affection I still hold for you."
Basil's brow furrowed thoughtfully. The boy was not being entirely untruthful; in fact it had been over two weeks since Basil had been in contact with his muse. However, Basil was more than certain that Dorian felt no guilt or remorse for disassociating himself with the humble artist. The only reason the two men were now stood in awkward embrace was due to Basil taking it upon himself to visit Dorian as he passed the boy's home that morning. He coldly recalled how disappointed Dorian's face had grown upon opening the door to find the artist and how he had half expected to be instantly dismissed back into the cobbled street. Now, here he stood, caught up in Dorian's arms as though shackled to the marvellous young man.
The pair had lingered in the impressive drawing room and forced out idle conversation, each party straining to concentrate on the empty words that passed between them. Dorian had seemed too preoccupied greedily enjoying the intoxicating scent of the blooming roses in the garden to even acknowledge the painter's existence; Basil had bitten his lip to control a growing urge to arise from where he was uncomfortably seated and leave the house in the same silence he had been received with. It wasn't until Harry was casually mentioned by Dorian that the conversation grew instantaneously intense and meaningful. And now, well, now they were stood so close together that Basil was able to inhale Dorian's perfumed scent and hear his faint whispering. The artist drew in his breath shakily and allowed his perfect muse to trace intricate patterns along his tensed cheek with dainty fingers.
"I appreciate you've been upset over how much time I've devoted to Harry" Dorian's musical voice sounded like a heavenly lullaby to Basil's ears, "Just looking at you now, I see how tired and frustrated you are."
"You're making me sound like some kind of green-eyed monster" Basil frowned and drew back from Dorian's soothing touch, "I'm not jealous of Harry, Dorian…no…in fact far from that. I pity Harry. I do not envy him"
"Pity?" Dorian raised an eyebrow and Basil struggled to collect his thoughts, "What is it that makes you pity him, Basil?"
"Well," Basil stared into the beautiful orbs that traced the outline of his own rugged face, "he does not know how to live his own life. He only knows how to influence those around him."
"What on earth are you talking about, Basil?" his cruel laughter was like the pealing of exquisite bells.
"Oh," Basil lowered his dark eyes to the exotic carpet, "I don't think I can explain it"
"Look," Dorian smiled patronisingly and the painter knew he should have hated him for this, but found it near impossible to tear himself away now, "I still value our friendship, Basil. I…well I've just been intrigued to learn more of Henry's disposition. I've never known such an interesting and mysterious man."
"Just don't fall into his trap" Basil shook his head firmly, "Don't allow yourself to be altered by his ramblings. They're meaningless. He pretends to talk sense, as though he is well travelled, yet he knows little. Promise me Dorian, you will remember what I've told you."
Dorian merely closed his glistening eyes and dove in to plant another ravenous kiss on Basil's parted lips. The warmth of the boy's slender hands upon either side of the artist's face sent his heart stuttering helplessly. As the reassuring kiss came to an end, Dorian smiled sheepishly and the morning sun illuminated his locks in a heavenly glow; the pure magnificence of the man left Basil speechless and with a suffocating lump forming in his throat. Then, without a moment to recover, another seductive kiss was crashing down upon his trembling lips. The painter struggled for air and tried his hardest to maintain the high ground, hiding the fact he enjoyed the unplanned contact by contorting his face into a faked frown. Dorian sighed contently and entwined his lean fingers with the thick locks of dark hair that framed Basil's stern face.
"Please Dorian," Basil choked out, straining to sound restrained and sensible, "will you promise me you will allow yourself not to be devoured by Harry's stories?"
"Yes," Dorian finally replied with a brash smirk, "I promise you."
"Well," Basil muttered reluctantly, "I'll take my leave."
The artist eased himself out of Dorian's asphyxiating clutch and stalked proudly across the room towards the leather armchair in which he had previously placed his scarf. He was almost too afraid to look back at his friend as he draped the yellow fabric around his heated neck. One careless glance could be all it would take to send him crawling back to be in the boy's comforting arms once more and yearning for another forbidden kiss. Puffing his chest out with what dignity he still considered himself to be capable of, Basil made his way to the heavy wooden door and felt the chilled glass door knob beneath his quavering finger tips.
"Basil" the charming voice caused Basil to freeze up completely and his hands was unable to grasp the door knob.
"Yes, Dorian?" he sighed exhaustedly, clenching his eyes as though catching a glimpse of Dorian would turn his heart to stone.
"You are a dear friend," the voice was pleasant and Basil could tell his friend was smiling lovingly at his hunched back, "you must visit again. It's being a pleasure having you visit today."
Something irrational snapped in Basil and he spun upon his heels. He stormed across the room, fuelled by a passionate frenzy that congealed within his heaving chest and without another utterance took Dorian's flawless face in his rough hands; despite the fiery desire, Basil knew Dorian's face was close to porcelain and any exertion of pressure was bound to shatter his fragile beauty into a million shards of perfection. His ragged breath caught in his throat as he crushed his lips upon Dorian's and allowed a wave of tranquillity to wash over his shuddering body. Dorian flashed a brilliant smile at the dazed painter as Basil practically dragged his hungry lips away before allowing himself too completely drown in the passion. The young boy playfully made abstract patterns along Basil's quivering jaw with his sweet kisses and clutched on to the yellow scarf as though his very life depending upon the action. The painter turned his face away from Dorian as though ashamed of allowing his true passions to surface and gently prized Dorian's fingers from him scarf. Dorian returned the awkward reaction with a humoured smile and another child-like ripple of laughter escaped his flushed lips.
"Just…just don't let Harry taint you," Basil spoke flustered and his cheeks were glowing with humiliation, "You're too perfect to be corrupted."
